


Feels Like Home

by Cobrilee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Sheith Month 2017, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 13:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11945346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobrilee/pseuds/Cobrilee
Summary: It's a reality that with the life they lead, one day their luck is going to run out. One day, someone is going to get hurt. Shiro just never expected it would be Keith whose luck ran out, Keith who was hurt. And he didn't expect that day to be today.





	Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> I blame and adore the lovely [mad-madam-m](https://mad-madam-m.tumblr.com/)/[mikkimouse](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkimouse/pseuds/mikkimouse) for my new fandom, aka obsession. It's all her fault I got sucked down this black hole (heh, space pun). So much love and appreciation for getting me hooked, squealing and flailing with me, and reading this over to make sure it didn't suck.
> 
> This is for Sheith Month 2017, Day 29, Present. (I took that as present day, not as in gift.)

Logically, Shiro has always known that Keith is smaller. He's slender, lithe, with a compact frame and narrow shoulders, and physically unimposing to anyone who doesn't know him. 

Shiro knows him. 

Shiro has always seen the fight in Keith, the defiance and aggression that intimidates men older and bigger. He's seen Keith's determination and will, the way he doesn't back down. He's seen a man who might be a head shorter than everyone around him, but stands taller. He sees someone he considers his equal, and Shiro rarely notices how much bigger he is than Keith. 

But now, with his slight frame curled protectively against Shiro's chest, skin chalky and his own chest barely rising with each hard-won breath, Shiro is vividly reminded of Keith's smaller size. He feels fragile, like Shiro could crush him, and nothing has felt more wrong in his life. 

His muscles tighten, tension running between his shoulder blades and up his neck as he carries Keith’s limp form to the med bay. He aches to pull Keith closer, to draw him into his own body and imbue him with strength and health. Feeling helpless isn’t something he’s ever coped with well, so he’s always focused on thinking through a situation logically.

But logic isn’t going to make Keith better.

Shiro forces himself to meet the worried eyes of the other paladins as they draw nearer. Offering comfort is the last thing he feels capable of right now, when his every thought centers around bringing Keith back to full health, but he has to. Their leader lies broken in his arms, and they have no one else to look to.

“Keith? Buddy?” Hunk ventures, tentative and uncertain, and Shiro’s throat tightens uncomfortably.

Pidge pats Hunk’s shoulder in a gesture probably meant to comfort, but her own fear is evident in her eyes. “He’ll be okay, Hunk. Have you ever known anything to keep Keith down?”

“No?”

“That’s right. He’ll be up and fighting in no time.” Her voice wavers, and they all pretend not to notice. She turns her imploring gaze at Shiro, and he allows a brief moment of eye contact before his glance flickers away. If the healing pod were an option, he’d be more optimistic, but he knows they’re all thinking the same thing he is: the Altean healing pods aren’t equipped to address Keith’s Galra physiology. 

Lance stands, silent and motionless, his own gaze fixed on Keith’s pallid face. It’s the quietest Shiro has ever seen him, and his strained expression is full of guilt. “I’m sorry, Shiro,” he mumbles. “It’s all my fault.”

Shiro shakes his head sharply. “You can’t blame yourself. We all knew the rockslide was a real risk, and Keith chose to stay on the surface.”

Lance takes a step closer, lifting one hand and letting it hover near Keith’s shoulder for a brief moment before letting it drop again. “I argued with him about staying behind on guard duty. I thought it would be boring, I wanted to be part of the rescue mission and be a hero. If I’d just done what he asked…"

“Then you’d be the one getting carried to the med bay,” Shiro counters, weary. “Would that be any better?”

“No, but…” Lance looks up at him helplessly. “He’s our leader. We need him.”

“He’ll be okay.”  _ Please let him be okay. _

\-----

Shiro was hardly aware of when the Castle launched, but he had the fleeting thought that he was glad to see the last of the unstable planet. They’d managed to evacuate all the inhabitants; Shiro had helped, since they’d needed all available bodies, but his thoughts had been on Keith the entire time. The second the last shuttle had lifted, Shiro had rushed back to the Castle to check on him.

Now, three days later, Keith’s condition remains largely unchanged. Shiro wouldn’t normally consider himself an anxious person, but the sight of an unresponsive Keith has tested his nerves and patience in a way that not even Slav had done. Even the rest of the paladins have taken to avoiding him, leaving him alone when they stop by to see how Keith is doing.

Allura had tried to point out to him that his behavior wasn’t healthy for the team, that they needed him to step in and lead them in Keith’s absence. His intention to be strong for the team had weakened the longer Keith stayed unconscious, and his response to Allura’s challenge had been swift and cutting.

“The team isn’t my concern right now, Keith’s health is. They have you and Coran, and we’re not in battle mode anyway. Come find me if Zarkon or one of his fleet attacks, but until then, let me focus on taking care of Keith.”

He isn’t proud of the way he’d snapped, but Allura had understood where his priorities lay and had respectfully withdrawn. As a result, he’s lost count of the number of hours he’s spent at Keith’s bedside, lost in his own thoughts.

Keith has never abandoned or given up on him; Shiro can do nothing less than show him the same unwavering devotion.

The hell of it is, he can see the improvement in Keith’s physical wounds. The gashes are closing, the bruises turning a sickly greenish-yellow, and the rattling breaths coming from his shallowly-rising chest have calmed and evened out. Somehow, despite his obvious healing, Keith still hasn’t regained consciousness.

Shiro hasn’t said much in the last few days, but he finds himself talking to Keith now. He’d read, long ago, that coma patients could hear the voices of people talking to them. Nothing else is working, so he figures it’s worth a shot.

“You’d be amazed,” he begins, as if he’s simply continuing where they left off in a previous conversation. “Lance was so quiet when he first saw you, after. I didn’t even know he was capable of it. You’ll have to tease him about it when you wake up. That kid cares about you more than he’d like anyone to think.” He pauses. “Don’t tease him about that. It’s a good thing that he’s starting to not be so self-centered. Let’s not give him a reason to regress.”

Falling silent again, Shiro leans forward enough to take Keith’s hand, swallowing hard as he squeezes, hoping against hope to feel an answering pressure. “Pidge is going crazy trying to figure out what’s wrong, if there’s something she can do or make that will bring you back. We know your brain activity is still strong, we just don’t know why you won’t wake up.” Taking a steadying breath, he continues. “Hunk is planning a new menu for as soon as you regain consciousness. He’s going to spoil you. Apparently Allura keeps trying to remind him that you have simple tastes, but he’s determined.”

He’s out of words almost as soon as he’s started, which isn’t normal for him, but this is far beyond normal. Of everyone, Keith is the last one he ever imagined he would see so still and lifeless. Keith has always given off a vibe of barely-there control, as if he could fly into motion in an instant. Shiro is the calm; Keith is the rushing water below it.

There are still a few words left in him, and he hesitates before saying them. “Stay with me, Keith-kun. What would I do without you?”

The fingers in his tight grip twitch, and Shiro’s breath catches as he freezes, afraid to hope. “Keith?” The word is barely a murmur, but it’s loud in the silence of the room. 

A guttural groan rumbles up from Keith’s chest and Shiro waits, elation beginning to course through him when Keith shifts restlessly. His eyes flicker beneath closed lids, and when his lips part his voice is soft, hoarse.

“Shiro?”

Shiro’s heart stutters, but it’s forgotten when Pidge’s voice blares over the Castle’s comm system. “Hey everyone, Keith is awake!” He knows he has mere minutes, at best, before everyone else descends upon them, so he gives Keith’s now-trembling fingers one last clasp of his own before standing. He pauses, then quickly bends down again to press a lingering kiss to Keith’s forehead, eyes drifting shut reverently.

“Welcome back,” he murmurs, and by the time Pidge and Lance burst into the room, he’s already on the other side of it and getting Keith a glass of water. 

Shiro takes a moment to compose himself as Hunk barrels into the room and starts jabbering with Lance, and when he turns around his smile is calm, his breathing steady. “He’s just returning to consciousness,” he scolds mildly. “Give him a moment.”

“I thought you said he’s awake,” Allura says to Pidge as she and Coran join them. “I assumed you were here with him.”

“Right, like Shiro would let her get anywhere near him,” Hunk snorts, though it isn’t malicious. “He’s been Keith’s guard dog since it happened.”

Shiro fights the urge to blush, but Pidge saves him by answering Allura. “I’ve been monitoring his vitals remotely,” she explains. “His brain activity and oxygen levels spiked, indicating consciousness.”

“He’s okay though, right?” Lance asks Pidge. “He’ll be able to fly the Black Lion again? Because I don’t want to play another round of musical lions. I’m just barely getting used to Red.”

Pidge shrugs, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I don’t see any reason why not. Physically he’s fine, and there’s no evidence he suffered any brain damage.” It’s a testament to how worried they were about Keith that Lance doesn’t take the opportunity to make a joke. 

“I’m right here,” Keith rasps. “You can stop talking about me now.” They all jump, apparently having forgotten why they were there in the first place.

As they rush to fuss over him, Shiro hangs back. He tells himself it’s to keep from overwhelming Keith, but the truth of the matter is now that he’s awake, Shiro is uncertain of his place.

When Keith finally manages to pry his eyes open, however, he turns his head, looking straight through the group of people gathered around him to seek Shiro out. His gaze locks onto Shiro's immediately and his eyes flash with something Shiro can't define. 

Keith smiles, a small thing that's gone nearly as soon as it appears, and closes his eyes. The clenching sensation in Shiro's chest loosens, and he takes his first deep breath in almost four days. 

They're going to be okay.

\-----

Everyone is so protective of Keith that he’s hardly left alone for the next few days, but Shiro isn’t ready to seek him out yet anyway. He watches, amused, as Hunk hovers over him like a mother hen, and Lance is noticeably nicer. Pidge interrupts training several times to check his vitals, and Shiro bites back a grin when he sees Keith grit his teeth in an effort to hold back from voicing his obvious irritation. Instead, he submits to Pidge’s testing with an impatient look on his face and his arms crossed. 

Gradually things go back to normal, except now Shiro finds that Keith watches him boldly as opposed to letting his gaze skitter away when he’s caught, the way he used to. It simultaneously makes him nervous and gives him hope. He wonders what he should do about it; if he should approach Keith or pretend nothing out of the ordinary is happening.

Apparently he takes too long to decide, because Keith makes the decision for him. Shiro returns to his room one evening to find Keith waiting for him, and a heady combination of nerves and energy thrums lowly through his veins.

“Keith. I’m glad to see you’re back to fighting form,” he says neutrally, beginning to strip off his armor. Pidge hadn’t yet cleared Keith for battle, so Shiro had had to pilot the Black Lion during the attack on the Castle earlier that day. It was, fortunately, a short fight brought on by incompetent foes, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to change in the hours following.

Keith’s arms are folded tightly across his chest, a scowl clouding his handsome features. It’s an expression Shiro is familiar with, but not, he realizes with a pang of unhappiness, when it’s directed at him.

“Tell that to Pidge,” he grumbles, and Shiro would smile at his grumpiness if the underlying tension wasn’t so high. 

He decides to bite the bullet and address the reason for Keith's presence in his room. "What can I do for you?" His voice is pleasant, but in a way that's stiff and formal, something he's never been around Keith in all the years they've known each other.

Keith studies him, his expression revealing nothing. "I don't know, Shiro," he says finally. "From what I hear, you've already done plenty."

It was too much to hope that no one would tell him that Shiro had spent days at his bedside. "I would have done the same for anyone on the team," he tries, but Keith clearly doesn't believe him, judging by the skeptical look leveled at him. "You might be the black paladin now, but I led this team for a long time. I still feel responsible for every one of you."

"Responsible enough to spend days sitting beside each one of us, just waiting for us to wake up?" The words are challenging, but Keith's voice is soft with understanding. Shiro hesitates, then shakes his head in resignation.

Keith takes a deliberate step forward, then another, until the distance between them has been bridged and he's standing inches from Shiro. His head tips in concession to their height difference, chin jutting out stubbornly. "I might not be as connected to my Japanese heritage as you are, but I know some things. I know how to say 'get out of my way' and 'leave me alone'. I know how important loyalty and honor are." He takes a quiet breath. "And I know what it means when you say 'kun' to someone."

Shiro freezes. He’d said that before Keith regained consciousness... hadn't he?

“Keith, I... You were unconscious for so long, and I was worried…”

A smile curves Keith’s lips, a genuine one that spreads, and it’s an unusual enough sight that Shiro falters, struck by the rare beauty. “Takashi. It’s okay.”

He gazes down at Keith, too afraid to hope but unable to keep from it anyway. Many people called him Takashi, on Earth, but they didn’t know him, it wasn't significant to them. It’s his first name, so that’s what they called him. Everyone else calls him Shiro because that’s how he introduces himself. Keith, though… Keith understands what it means.    


“Takashi, huh?” he rasps.

Keith smiles just that tiny bit more, but then it slips away as he narrows his gaze on Shiro. “Were you ever going to say something? Were you ever going to tell me that you sat beside me for days, all but abandoning our team? Were you ever going to  _ tell me _ you’re in love with me?”   


Shiro lifts his shoulders helplessly, his hands out in an almost supplicating gesture. “How did you not already know?” 

Rolling his eyes, Keith closes the remaining inches between them and slots himself into Shiro's arms, dipping his head and tucking it under Shiro's chin. “I never said I didn't know. I asked if you were ever going to tell me.”

Shiro’s arms slip around him on instinct, and he has to restrain himself from crushing Keith to him. “I was afraid,” he confesses after a moment of simply breathing Keith in. “So much has happened since we knew each other at the Garrison. Kerberos changed me. I didn’t know if you would like the man I am now.”

Keith pulls back, his eyes burning with a fierce passion. “Takashi Shirogane, you are the best man I’ve ever known, pre-Kerberos  _ and _ now. You’re the man everyone else wishes they could be. I don’t  _ like _ the man you are now, I  _ love _ the man you are now, and I loved the man you  _ were _ when I was just a Garrison newbie who didn’t know anything but flying and you were my hero. If there’s one thing you should never doubt, it’s that I admire and respect everything you are and that you stand for.”

Tears prick at the underside of Shiro’s eyelids, and he has a hard time swallowing past the aching lump in his throat. Lifting his hands, he tenderly cups Keith’s jaw and tilts his face up. “You’ve always been my biggest fan, but I always thought it was hero worship. I never believed you could love me.”

Keith ducks his head away from Shiro’s grasp. “I’ve always loved you,” he mumbles. “There’s never been anyone else.”

The pressure in Shiro’s chest is enormous, making it difficult to breathe around the thundering of his heart. “Keith, please look at me.” When Keith does, lifting his chin warily, Shiro smiles down at him; his face is split so wide that it hurts, and he knows it must be near-blinding to Keith. “I’ve loved you since you were a pesky little freshman, constantly at my heels. I loved you while I was on Kerberos, and under Galra control. I love you now, when I can see the man you’ve become, on your way to being the leader I know you are. I would go through every moment of my life all over again if it meant that I’d find my way back to you.”

Keith colors, his cheeks tinted pink, and gives him a lopsided grin. “I think this is the sappiest you’ve ever been in your life.”

“What can I say?” Shiro murmurs, bringing his mouth down to meet Keith’s. “You inspire me.”

As they both sink into the kiss, the pressure in Shiro’s chest begins to dissipate until he feels lighter than he has in years. Only the weight of Keith’s body against his, his arms wrapped around Shiro’s waist, keeps him grounded. 

Keith makes a greedy, hungry little noise as he squirms closer, and Shiro tightens his arms around Keith’s shoulders, returning it with equal fervor. He feels anchored; he feels  _ home.  _ The realization hits him that  _ home _ is Keith. Just Keith.

To be honest, it always was.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://cobrilee.tumblr.com/) if you want to squeal and flail with me about these two precious space babies! And make space puns.


End file.
